Knives and Feeling
by LuaM64
Summary: New acquaintances bond in unconventional ways. Please excuse the poor summary... Thiefshipping, smut, knifeplay, probably bloodplay, yaoi, and possible angstshipping and tornshipping.
1. Prologue: Knives

AN: *sigh* ...Here goes. This.. is my first real fanfic, so please be gentle. Also, in case you didn't know, BL = yaoi. It stands for Boy's Love.

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><p>Prologue: Knives (In Which There is Contemplation)<p>

Bakura liked knives.

Oh, he really did.

Whether he was using them on himself or others, it didn't matter.

Bakura really, _really_ liked knives.

They were his weapon of choice.

In ancient Egypt, he must have slit a thousand throats.

In modern day Japan, he knew he would slit millions more.

In the name of justice? Probably not, but at the same time... now this was a need.

If Bakura had to die, he would have preferred to go by knife.

So, as you can imagine, he was thrilled to meet Malik Ishtar: young, scarred flesh, both figuratively and literally.

The thought of it made him both hot and intrigued, and somewhere in his long-dead heart... was that empathy? It couldn't have been.

As a boy of ten, a hot knife had been used to carve the secrets of a long-dead king onto his back.

He wished he could have done the carving.

Born in darkness, raised in darkness- it was understandable that he wanted his revenge.

In fact, he was much like Bakura himself.

The King of Thieves had robbed many a tomb in his life, but could never imagine living in one.

He licked his lips at the prospect of gold, rubies, and other jewels.

But, regardless, no matter how many treasures they held, a hole in the ground was a hole in the ground.

He got in and out of tombs. _Escaped_ from tombs. Freed countless, beautiful trinkets from their shadowy prisons. From the castles of dead men. But that's all that they were- dead men- and himself having been raised- or rather, raised himself- in a world full of nothing but death, he understood well the feeling of waking up to death, going to sleep in death; _drowning_ in death. Maybe that's why he was such a creature of the night.

But he digresses.

Malik Ishtar was flawed, and therefore beautiful. Covered in blood.

Bakura also liked blood.

Malik was a king of mindless men and women- he could get into their _souls_ with a weapon made of souls.

It wasn't only the Rod, though. The teen, though young, was a _master_ of control.

Now, the greater king intended to break every layer of the lesser king down.

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><p>AN: As I've already said, this is the first real fic I've had the balls to actually put up on this site... Tell me what you think? I apologize for the odd format, and if it's not any good... please let me know if there are any errors. And, if you came here expecting sex, don't worry, next chapter, there will be pr0nz (if I ever decide to write it...). At this point, tornshipping (Bakura x Malik x Ryou) is still a possibility, though I don't know how I would work it in...<p> 


	2. Chapter One: Fascination

AN: The references I make to Bakura's voice are referencing his Japanese voice. I think it's really sexy. And, also, I'd like to apologize in advance for the awkward sentences, abuse of italics, and crappy writing in general. I'm sorry it's so short! Thanks to everyone who reviewed the prologue and to Freddie Mercury for giving me inspiration at completely inappropriate times! ^_^

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><p>Chapter One: Fascination (In Which There is Sexual Tension)<p>

"What do you want?" a glaring Malik Ishtar asked.

The automatic door to his room closed with a_ whizz._

"If the others see us together, they might expect something."

Bakura kept his usual sharp expression, but underneath the cold and calculating eyes, he was grinning like the maniac he was.

"Come here," he said, trying to lower his landlord's voice, "I want to see them."

The Egyptian boy growled, thinking the question to be dirty, "What the fuck do you want to see?" and fought to keep his voice low. "I'm not here to play games." he warned.

"H-heh... your scars. On your back." Malik looked like he was about to interrupt, but the other quickly cut in with "-Yes, I know about them._ And I want to see them_."

The youngest Ishtar raised his eyebrows at this and scoffed, turning his head. "Huh! Not until you hold up your end of the bargain!" He whipped his head back around, purple eyes narrowed. "Why do you want to see them, anyway? It's not like you'll be able to read them."

"Maybe not," (this was a lie) "but perhaps they... _fascinate_ me." there was a dangerous hint in his voice.

Malik turned his back again. "I'm tired of this nonsense. Leave me to prepare for the duel tomorrow."

The pale spirit lifted his shirt over his head, exposing his handsome upper body.

The youngest Ishtar stopped in his tracks, suddenly angry. "_I told you to-_"

The thief also pulled out a knife.

It was when Malik turned around, furious, that he noticed it, and willed himself to calm down: the gorgeous chest and stomach were marred, striped with pink and red...

Too straight to have been anything other than blatant self-injury.

This very secretly piqued his interest.

The manipulative teen chose his words carefully, but let there be no mistake- his tone did not waver as he stared at the spirit before him.

"Punishing your host, I see?"

"... Not always. My landlord knows better than to defy _me_."

A sadistic smirk,

"Now come here,_ Malik Ishtar_..."

a heavy pause,

"show me all of the tortures that you secretly _lavish_."

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><p>AN: HAHAHA, I LEFT YOU ON A CLIFFHANGER. TAKE THAT, THIEFSHIPPING COMMUNITY. WHO IS TOP NOW? Don't worry, what comes next is on the way. *shot* Also, sorry again for... this fic's existence. XD Please let me know if there are any errors, and I'd love to hear all the feedback you have to offer! ^_^<p> 


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